Bubbles in the bath swirl like clouds
In a sorrowful sky
While a lady scrubs out the ugly remains
Of a day
To no avail.
She wants to disappear a spell
And unplugs the drain.
She shuts her eyes and submerges,
Starts to melt 'til she converges
With the soapy water.
Her hand --
The one part
Yet to be liquid
Guides her matter to the drain.
She spins down with
The tiny tornado.
...The lady sleeps a night and day...
Beneath the waves,
Her particles travel,
Transforming, as
They drift
Astray.
Through sewage, sand, disarray,
She sleeps a night and day.
When she's solid, she awakes,
Swiftly swimming up until
Surface breaks;
Water sprays.
Now she floats above.
Lady cranes her graceful neck
To glimpse reflections
In a lake.
Pristine, white feathers catch
Her gaze, and she
Peeks at an orange beak,
Stares at a halved heart,
Blackened eyes.
She hears the rising Moon sigh.
"Hello, Odette, my maiden swan.
Darling, it's been far too long."
The swan looks up,
Grants a nod,
Then turns her face away.
She skims
The shimmering waters,
Singing;
Lake and Moon accompany
Into the night
'Til distant Sun calls her home;
Moon permits her to return.
But swan ignores the moon and sun.
Tonight, she'll sleep upon the shore.
And in the morning,
She will roam.